Chapter 4: Tacos and Dresses

“Tacos.”

Delaney gave me a hard stare. “That’s my line.”

“You turning down tacos?” I turned the rollback toward the interstate.

“I didn’t say that.” She paused. “Why?”

“Maybe I just feel like tacos.”

“Or...?”

“Or maybe we need to talk to Mooky.”

She gave a disgruntled scowl. “Mooky wouldn’t have anything to do with that shit.”

“I know. But he might know who would. People almost died.”

“He’d hate that.”

She was right; Mooky grew weed because he liked weed. But he also saw it as a near-magical natural medicine.

He was also expecting us.

We’d just gotten out of the rollback when we saw him; he was striding across the parking lot dead at us.

He thrust a large bag at Delaney. “Dude. Twenty tacos. No charge.” He pushed a large Coke into her hand and handed me another.

Delaney blinked.

He shook his head, his lips pressed tightly together. “I know about the overdoses. The girl with all the cross tattoos is my cousin, Alexandria.”

I remembered her. “She’ll be okay; she wasn’t as bad as some of the others.”

“It’s an ... abomination.” He looked off into the distance, clenching his fists. “I told her to stay away from that ... It’s toxic, man.” He looked up at me. “Do you know what they make that shit out of? Rat poison. Some of it is made with real rat poison!”

“It was laced with fentanyl.”

His shoulders sagged. “That sucks.”

“She say who was selling it?”

“Alex didn’t know him. Some skinny blond dude with a stringy goatee. He just showed up and was selling cheap.”

“She didn’t know his name?”

He shook his head. “Nooo ... it was just some dude.”

“You don’t have any idea who it might be?”

“I grow prime stuff. I don’t want anything to do with those ... chemists.” I could see the revulsion in his face. “That shit’s unnatural.” He bit his lower lip for a moment. “You want me to ask around?”

“Maybe just listen to some rumors and see what you hear. Don’t ask anyone directly.”

He nodded. “I can do that. This is bad. Bad for everyone.”

Delaney echoed his nod seriously. “Don’t let it harsh your calm, dude.”

He blew out a breath. “Dude.”

As we pulled out, Delaney started digging a taco out of the bag. I glanced at her. “Harsh your calm?”

“Everybody says learning another language is important.”

“Stoner isn’t a language.”

She held up a taco. “Duuuuude.”

I scowled at her.

Sheree was at the yard when we pulled in; even as I parked the rollback I could see she was obviously in an oddly dark mood. Delaney ran the paperwork into the office while I headed over to Sheree.

She scowled as I walked up. “Shelly still swears she didn’t use anything. She says there’s a mistake somewhere.”